


Though His Words May be True (Remix)

by Woad



Series: Cap Ironman '16 Remixes [3]
Category: Avengers (Comics), Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, New Avengers (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Captain America's Hotline, Captain America's Van, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-19 01:22:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5950762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Woad/pseuds/Woad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve doesn’t answer the door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Though His Words May be True (Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [magicasen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicasen/gifts).
  * Inspired by [a lifetime past repair](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4056811) by [magicasen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicasen/pseuds/magicasen). 
  * In response to a prompt by [magicasen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicasen/pseuds/magicasen) in the [Cap_Ironman_Remix_Madness_2016](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Cap_Ironman_Remix_Madness_2016) collection. 



Tony presses two fingers to the bridge of his nose before trailing them down to cover his lips. He jabs at the doorbell again, three times in rapid succession, hoping it conveys the worry he feels.

Because this is the fifth time with no answer.

It would be tempting to believe that Steve is out. Only his beloved Harley is still parked just down the street.

Tony presses his ear to the flaky paint of the door and listens, but all he hears is the gentle hum of the building. A myriad of horrible thoughts run through his head—Steve lying on the kitchen floor blue in the face or sprawled in the tub—it’s been over three days now since Steve left. Tony should have at least called.

So Tony fishes out a repulsor node from his briefcase, lets the armor extend and flow around his wrist and fingers. With a twist of his armored hand the lock snaps and Tony steps inside Captain America’s sanctum.

“Steve?” He calls out, but the kitchen and the living room are empty. So is the bedroom.

And Steve’s mobile is sitting on the kitchen counter.

 _Kidnapping?_ Tony wonders darkly until he comes to the desk. On top of a stack of papers is a mechanic’s bill for the old Chevy van. God. He could have sworn that Steve got rid of that clunker years ago.

Part of Tony relaxes. If Steve has had the van worked on, maybe that explains the motorcycle.

But another part of Tony starts worrying. The van has a bed and camper accommodations. Steve used to use it to travel around the country.

So where has he gone?

And why doesn't he have his phone?

#

Something about the open road helps.

America is big and vast, and Steve’s been driving for two days now. He’s in the middle of the desert and the immense emptiness of it all makes him feel small, makes him feel dwarfed.

And that’s a good thing.

Out here he's reminded that he's just a man. Out here he doesn’t feel the weight of the world pressing down on his shoulders as much. He can almost forget, in the small arc of his headlights, that there isn’t a whole universe out there that he couldn’t save.

Until he stops for the night and looks up.

Tonight Steve lies on the roof of the van, gazing up into nothingness. It’s as bright as though the moon is out, but there’s no silvery orb up there, no field of stars. It’s just dead and dark, a canvas painted over in matte black by his hand.

How could it have gone so wrong?

That question has hounded him ever since the first night. What could he have done differently? Surely there must have been another way, something he missed…

But the worst part is, even looking back, Steve can’t find any answers.

He’s just starting to feel the chill of the night when he hears a phone ringing inside the van. He hasn’t heard that ring in forever. A pang shoots through Steve, taking him back to a simpler time.

He’s left his phone at the apartment and forgotten all about the hotline. A hotline that still works, despite the fact that there's no Stark satellite to relay the call now.

Steve feels every hair on his body rise as this new, horrific realization about the infinity bracelet sinks in. Just how much power _had_ they wielded? If it could preserve the mechanism of a machine that had been forgotten by everyone...

The hotline rings again several times more before Steve hears a tape deck click on. And in the silence of the desert, Steve hears Tony's voice.

“Steve…” he says, voice low and hesitant. “I don’t know if this number still goes to your van, but I wanted to call, see if you were alright. It’s not like you to just take off.”

Steve closes his eyes, feels the dew beginning to slick the roof of the Chevy beneath his fingers, even though there's no reason for it. There's no _reason_ for night or a day anymore. It's all just a parody of how things were before.

How can the world go on so _normally_ when such an awful thing has happened?

“I’m sure wherever you’ve gone, you have your reasons,” Tony says, and Steve feels awful, hearing the worry and sadness in his voice. Tony’s trying to cover it, morph his tone into something supportive. But Steve can hear the heartache buried beneath the layers of false cheer.

There is a long, silent pause, and then Tony says, “Whatever it is, I want to work though it with you. I’m here for you...if you want it.”

Steve opens his eyes again to the nothingness.

He would take Tony’s offer with open arms if he thought there was anything _to_ work through. Right now there’s just a hollow space that grief has carved inside of his chest. He’s not sure that anything, no matter how well-intentioned, can ever fill that void.

“Steve,” there’s a pleading note in Tony’s voice now. “If it's what happened...You made the best decision that you could. We all thought it would work. What happened wasn’t your fault. Please…just come home. I miss you.”

The mechanical whir of the hotline’s tape deck clicks off as Tony hangs up.

As the sounds of Steve's world fade back into a cool, midnight breeze, Steve finds he misses the sound of that voice. But Steve can’t bring himself to climb down into the van and pick up the phone. Instead he lies there, thinking about Tony, thinking about how if they hadn’t done something, he would have never gotten the chance to kiss him. Thinking about how unfair it is to finally have Tony when his heart is too heavy to carry anything more.

Thinking about how, though his words may be true, they don’t make Steve feel any better.

He wonders if anything ever will.


End file.
